


Ghoul Friday

by moonlight69



Category: Dresden Files - Butcher
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight69/pseuds/moonlight69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas does a lot for Harry, but entertaining cranky wardens might be going too far. Set somewhere between the novels <i>Small Favor</i> and <i>Turn Coat</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghoul Friday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rodo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodo/gifts).



I opened the door to my swanky, exclusive apartment, giving the man on the other side a very thorough once-over before smirking at his look of surprise and recognition (of _what_ I was, not who I was) and stepping back to let him in. "You must be the warden Harry warned me about." He was young--but then, they all were these days, thanks to the war--and fairly attractive. He was also, as I would expect from a warden, in excellent physical condition. Definitely deserving of caution—and a second look as he edged past me and into the living room.

The wizard looked around as he entered as if expecting a trap, summoning up a reserve of magical energy for a defense he wouldn't need. I rolled my eyes and pushed the door closed behind him, heading for the kitchen with my back to him as if I found him utterly unthreatening. It wasn't true; I've seen what a fully trained warden can do to a vampire, but I'd be damned if I was going to let him know that. "You want a beer?"

"I--how are _you_ involved in all of this, vampire?" he demanded as I got two beers out of the fridge and popped the caps off, setting one on the counter for him and retreating with the other like an offering to a damn stray cat. Empty Night, I was picking up some of Harry's bad habits. Soon I'd be rescuing damsels and...oh, wait. I was already doing that. Damn.

"I have a name," I informed him with a little sigh. "I'm Thomas. And you must be Boris. Stoacker, I believe it was?" I watched him visibly flinch. Oh, I don't know the intricacies of how to pronounce it just right, nor do I care to, but even someone who's dabbled in magic as little as I have knows the power of a Name, and even among the serious practitioners you came across your paranoid freaks every now and again.

Once again, the warden answered my question with one of his own. I hate when people do that. "Why did Dresden insist on involving you in all of this? This isn't a White Court matter." The truth was that I'd discovered the nest of ghouls personally. Personally and painfully, though the wounds had all healed up quick enough. One of the perks of being a monster, I guess you could say. I'd gotten a few good licks in myself, carving one or two of them up with my _kukri_ before I managed to outrun the rest. Ghouls didn't usually nest like that, not in metropolitan areas. Not unless they were up to something, massing forces--and led by someone with more brains. Which meant my brother insisted on sticking his…chivalry right into the middle of it all as soon as he found out what happened.

Of course, I wasn't going to tell _him_ any of that. It would just lead to more awkward questions that would have to be answered. Likely by Harry, and at great personal risk I know what it could cost him if our relationship became public knowledge, and I care about him too much to raise suspicion beyond what's unavoidable. Instead I perched on the edge of the counter and took a swig of beer, savoring the taste for a few seconds and letting him stew in the silence before answering, "I'm the hired muscle. My father owes Harry a favor. Guess who gets to pay up?" I grimaced, playing the part of reluctant assistant just enough to make it believable. It was a role I'd more or less gotten used to, even more so than the oh-so flamboyant Toe-moss (which I have to admit, amuses the hell out of me, most days). "What about you? I didn't think the Wardens did house calls unless things were getting messy." Unless Harry had been downplaying what he'd turned up in his investigation, in which case I was going to have a Talk with my darling little brother.

Stoacker glared, continuing to ignore my cold, frosty, malty hospitality. That was okay, Harry'd drink it as soon as he got here. I just hoped he did so soon…because I wasn't going to entertain twitchy, cranky wizards all damn afternoon for him. Not because I _wanted_ to see him, or _missed_ him, or anything. Perish the thought—I try to. "Council business," he snapped, glancing at the door, clearly as impatient for Harry's arrival as I was. Tension was coming off of him in waves at that point. I could make him _stop_ feeling so tense, if I wanted to. I could make him feel something much more enjoyable. If I wanted to. And oh, part of me wanted to. He was attractive, young (they all were these days, thanks to the war), and I could smell that he had inclinations in that direction--not that most White Court vampires let little things like sexual preferences slow us down. If he didn't want men, I could change _that_ too. He kept staring at me, the glare softening, eyes widening as we stayed locked eye-to-eye...

_Do it! Oh yes, the fun we could have with such a handsome young buck, we could play with him for ages before he was spent, do it, do it--_

I saw Boris the Warden jump in startled surprise as I suddenly moved halfway across the room, fighting my Demon for control. It'd been too long since I'd eaten well, something I would have to remedy. More shifts at the salon, careful nibbles here and there until I slaked this Hunger a little better.

I offered the now somewhat frightened Wizard no explanation, no smile. "I hear Harry," I murmured, turning away as my Demon raged in frustration. At least that much was true; I'd told the doorman to just let him up, and I could hear Harry crossing from the elevator to the penthouse's door, the sound of his footsteps familiar. The doorknob turned without a knock and Harry wandered cheerfully into the middle of a situation that could've gotten ugly. Now it was just awkward.

"Thomas, I gave--" Harry's words cut off as he spotted first Stoacker, then me, waaaay across the room and with my eyes probably still showing a telltale silver. "...Warden...Stoacker?" he asked slowly, turning to the wizard, who refused to look away from me. At that point, I didn't blame him.

"Dresden, what the hell is the meaning of this? Are you _trying_ to get Wardens killed? Perhaps more of us should be listening to Warden Morgan's warnings..." He trailed off at something on my face, the words dying in his throat.

"Thomas. ...Deep breaths, or something," Harry ordered me. "Hell's bells." He sighed and turned to the Warden again. "Stoacker, you weren't supposed to be here for another hour." He shot me a worried look that I answered with a shrug. Some things Harry didn't understand, or refused to accept. Things like the fact that I am a monster, and no amount of effort on my part will ever change that. I can fight against my nature (and I do, in no small part because of him…and _for_ him), but I can't change what I am.

"And just _what_ would have been waiting for me if I had not arrived before everything was ready?" Boris snapped, and I couldn't decide if that was directed at the untrustworthy vampire…or Harry. I took a deep breath as instructed, fighting off the homicidal fantasies that had now joined the more standard sexual ones I'd been entertaining. Either way, this guy was pissing me off. That was a bad idea in my current mood. He was lucky I had plenty of practice keeping my demon from taking over.

"Hey, I offered you a _beer_, what more do you want?" I sneered, getting myself under control as quickly as possible. Harry noticed the beer as I spoke and helped himself as predicted—it would have made me smile in a less tense situation, he was a creature of habit like no one I'd ever known. I stayed where I was, giving them plenty of physical space so the jumpy Warden wouldn't get even more paranoid and throw a fireball at me because I sneezed. He might singe my hair.

Stoacker looked from me to Harry, frowning thoughtfully. I didn't like the look, but I couldn't figure out what had prompted it, and I sure as hell wasn't about to ask. "Dresden. Can we get this over with? I don't know if you've heard, but we're in the middle of a _war_, and I'm needed at headquarters."

Harry grinned. "Gosh, really? By all means, go then. I didn't realize that resources were scarce when I told Warden Luccio that I could handle the situation and she didn't need to send anyone else. How about I just drop you a postcard when I'm done and give you a summary?"

Stoacker stiffened a little, raising his chin. "My orders from Captain Luccio are to investigate the current situation and give an _official_ risk assessment so the Council can decide on what further actions, if any, are warranted."

"In other words, nobody in the Fortress of Solitude trusts me, so they sent you to babysit." Harry looked at me and rolled his eyes and I couldn't keep a fond grin from my lips, brief as it was. God, his smart mouth annoyed me sometimes, but it was also...endearing. "Let's get this over with, then. Thomas, you coming?" He glanced at me, arching an eyebrow as he chugged about half of the beer and slammed the bottle down on my countertop.

"I'm certain two full wizards, and wardens to boot, can handle a little recon," I taunted--playfully, from Harry's point of view, but likely to be just as insulting as I'd meant it to be to Big Bad Boris. "I think I need a bubble bath. It's the secret to this luscious skin, you know. Exfoliate daily and don't forget to pamper yourself." I winked in their direction and took another swig of beer, wanting to finish it before it got warm. I let my voice drop to an exaggerated purr, though the emotion behind it may not have been as joking as everyone else in the room assumed. "You know my number if you need me, Harry," I murmured, my smile holding a promise I wasn't sure I'd ever get a chance to keep.

"White Court vampires," Harry muttered under his breath, knowing full well I could hear every word as clearly as Boris standing next to him could. "All they think about is sex, sex, sex." As Harry followed the other warden out of my apartment, he looked back and gave me a warm smile and a nod that was a promise to catch me up later. I nodded back and saluted him with my beer bottle before draining it. The door closed and I was alone.

I went into my bedroom, the one room that didn't exactly fit the persona I was trying to portray in this place, ironically. It was where I was me, where every throw pillow wasn't in place at just the right angle, where blankets were rumpled and clothes were left wherever they fell. I didn't want to deal with that jerk of a Warden a moment longer, but there was no way in hell I was letting Harry walk into a potentially fatal situation without getting his back. As I dressed and strapped on my _kukri_, then the Desert Eagle just in case, I tried not to think about what it might mean if Harry ever _did_ realize I meant every flirtatious word and gesture...and what it might cost us. Things were complicated enough between us, as it was. If Harry ever fell in love with me…

I threw on a trenchoat so I could make it through the lobby without drawing attention to myself--or more attention than I always drew, anyway. As I hurried out onto the streets of Chicago to shadow my amazing, heroic, idiot of a half-brother and keep him safe, I distracted myself by wondering what sort of life-threatening situation he was dragging me toward this time. We were both insane to keep doing this, to keep trying to be a beacon of light (or a pinprick, in my case) in an ever-darkening world...but I was glad we did. And as long as he believed in me I would keep trying.

It's what Harry would do. It's what he _does_.


End file.
